Perahia: Color From Black And White Keys

March 26, 1997|By TIM SMITH Music Writer

Murray Perahia is one of those rare pianists who can get a remarkable variety of color, not to mention feeling, out of black and white keys. This gift was demonstrated throughout his recital Monday afternoon at the Kravis Center, presented by the Regional Arts Foundation. Even when his playing was not entirely convincing, the emotional commitment and poetic pulse behind it were never in doubt.

Although particularly prized for his interpretations of Mozart, Perahia concentrated instead on Handel, Schubert, Schumann and Chopin.

The inclusion of Handel was as novel as it was welcome. Few pianists bother with this composer; if they're going to do anything baroque, it's invariably Bach or Scarlatti. Handel's contribution to the keyboard literature may not equal that of the vocal realm, but it is substantial and engaging just the same.

The E major Suite, which includes the famous set of variations nicknamed The Harmonious Blacksmith, was articulated with delectable clarity and character. Perahia didn't worry about trying to imitate the dry sound of a harpsichord, the instrument Handel wrote for, but savored the piano's richer tonal range. He did likewise with Handel's G major Chaconne, which rippled along prismatically.

Schubert's songful A major Sonata, D. 664, is tailor-made to Perahia's sensitive touch. The score's gentle lyricism, especially in the second movement, was communicated in a sweetly nuanced, unfussy manner.

As for the rest of the program, the pianist made a valiant, if only partially successful, effort to stretch his technique into the super-virtuoso category. He does not have the awesome tone of a true bravura type, nor the limitless power. The more he pushed in Schumann's F-sharp minor Sonata and an assortment of Chopin pieces, the more Perahia's fingers were apt to splat indecorously in the general vicinity of the intended notes.

Such mishaps are not a big concern, of course, when complemented by insightfulness, but I still wish Perahia hadn't tried quite so hard to play fast and loud. That has never been his forte before, and it only led to serious blurring, especially in Chopin's F minor Ballade. The composer's B minor Scherzo fared better; the quieter passages certainly inspired vintage Perahia phrase-molding.

The Aria movement of the Schumann sonata, too, was beautifully shaped and shaded. And if Perahia's handling of the rest could have been cleaner, it was hard not to be moved by the terrific passion in the pianism. As usual, he got to the heart of the matter, making the music's inner drama emerge vividly; in the end, the occasional technical blurs were quickly forgotten.